


Disasterology

by Ciyesci



Series: Fallout Boy Universe [1]
Category: Bandom, Fallout (Video Games), Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens
Genre: Anal, Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Hair-pulling, Interrogation, Kellin's a kinky boy, M/M, Mike likes gardening, Post-Apocalypse, Rough Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Stockholm Syndrome, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism, fallout boy universe, so's Vic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 09:08:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11986662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciyesci/pseuds/Ciyesci
Summary: Kellin's journey to the pre-war city of San Diego doesn't go as planned. Out of water and out of hope, he finds an old bunker inhabited by the kind of people who don't much appreciate strange visitors.





	Disasterology

Kellin had had plenty of guns pointed at him in his life. People are super protective of their stuff, they don't trust strangers, that's okay. This time around was a little worse, though. He'd just wanted water and these guys had to freak out and tie him to a chair. 

The three of them were wearing hoods and bandanas, yelling obscenities at him in some kind of weird language. Kellin wanted to explain that he wasn't going to steal anything, he wanted to tell them he'd leave if they untied him, but even if they understood what he was saying they were barely letting him get a word in sideways. 

"Please," he croaked, his throat feeling like sandpaper, "I just want water, I'll leave if-" 

One man struck him with the butt of his rifle, silencing him. He didn't protest this time, barely made a sound. He thought he might've cried if he wasn't so thirsty, the blow had made him bite his tongue so hard it was bleeding. He breathed deeply, trying to stay calm. 

The men had quietened down, their attention no longer on him. Kellin saw a new pair of shoes enter the room and heard the men conversing. The shoes walked to a table to the side of the room. 

The table held, aside from the singlet and jeans he wore now, all of Kellin's earthly possessions. A combat knife, a pipe rifle with seven last shots, a leather jacket, a pair of boots, an emptied pack, and the pack's contents. It had contained some old photos, a screwdriver and bobby pins, and a few bottle caps. Kellin had wanted to spend those on some water, but these guys were probably just going to take them and kill him instead. 

He spat blood onto the ground, still not lifting his head to look back up at them. He didn't have to though, the new guy grabbed him by the jaw and forced him to look up. 

Kellin felt his stomach drop. This man had soft, dark eyes and long hair that matched. His bandana covered half his face, but what Kellin could see was perfect, tanned skin. He guessed the guy with the rifle had hit him pretty hard. Hard enough to see an angel. The angel pointed Kellin's screwdriver at him. 

"You here rob us?" The man spoke perfect, unaccented English. Kellin was both surprised and relieved until he realised what he'd said. 

"No, I'm not-" Kellin's throat was dry rough, he was embarrassed at hearing it after his interrogator's smooth, easy voice. He cleared his throat. "I'm not a thief," he said hoarsely. 

The man tilted his head. 

"Then why," he began, slowly dragging the tip of the screwdriver from Kellin's cheek to his neck, "Do you need all those bobby pins?" He let go of Kellin's jaw to stroke a dark hair from his cheek. Kellin had to force himself not to lean into the touch. "Are they to help you style all this hair?"

Kellin looked away from the man's eyes. "I swear I'm not here to steal from you. I just wanted to buy some water and leave." He squeezed his eyes shut when he felt the tip of the screwdriver press into his neck. 

"You sound like you need it, huh?" 

"Please," Kellin begged, "I just want some water, I swear I'll-" He gasped, feeling the man roughly yank a handful of his hair up, making him look into his eyes. Kellin wished he hadn't done that. 

"You should look at people when you talk to them," the man said lowly, "It's polite."

"I'm sorry," he rasped. That new tone wasn't helping Kellin, and neither was the way he'd been secured to the chair, legs spread open, no way for him to conceal what was happening in his pants. He willed himself to calm down, but another rush of blood was sent south by the man tightening his grip on Kellin's hair. He was relieved when the guy turned to say something to the other three rather than look down. 

The three left the room, and the guy turned back to Kellin. 

"How did you plan on getting the water? You don't have enough caps to buy the amount you'd need for the journey to San Diego." 

"I was going to buy as much as I could so dying wouldn't be so bad," Kellin said honestly, "I was thinking something out in the wasteland would kill me while I'm weak. It's way better than dying of thirst."

The grip on his hair loosened. 

"That would be a waste of water." Kellin looked down. So did the man. 

"Vic." Kellin recognised the voice of the guy that hit him with his gun. Was that his interrogator's name? Vic? He walked to the door. The guy gave something to Vic while Kellin thought really hard about a naked ghoul he'd killed last week. This was probably the most embarrassing thing that had ever happened to Kellin. These guys were gonna kill him and he had a freaking boner. 

Vic's shoes appeared back in front of Kellin. A blush creeped into Kellin's face. He could almost hear the smirk in Vic's voice when he spoke. 

"Do you want this?" Kellin lifted his head a little and saw a canteen. All other thoughts left his head. If he wasn't so parched, he would've been salivating. 

He watched hungrily is Vic twisted the cap off slowly. He could feel him watching, but he didn't care. The canteen could be filled with poison for all Kellin knew and it still wouldn't matter. All he knew was that he needed to drink. 

The cap was finally off and Vic brought the canteen closer to Kellin, still watching his every move. When it finally met Kellin's cracked, bleeding lips, he tipped it a little and Kellin started swallowing gulp after grateful gulp of water. When Vic pulled the canteen back Kellin leaned forward, desperate for every drop of precious water. 

"You'll choke if you drink like that. Slow down. What's your name, by the way?"

"I'm Kellin Quinn."

"Victor Fuentes."

Kellin sipped more slowly this time, closing his eyes, letting himself enjoy the feel of the cool water on his tongue. The coppery taste of blood soon disappeared. When the canteen was empty he looked up at Vic and realised that he was looking down at Kellin's pants again, where a very obvious bulge remained. Vic's gaze returned to Kellin's eyes. 

"Do interrogations usually get you all hot and bothered?"

Kellin looked away, blushing. "That's your fault, grabbing my hair like that."

Vic dropped the empty canteen and jumped forward, taking a handful of Kellin's hair and glaring into his eyes. "You mean like this?" 

Kellin gasped, his pants seeming to tighten when Vic lowered his voice. 

"I told you to look at me when you're talking to me. You like it when I pull your hair, Kellin Quinn? Does this turn you on? Answer me."

"Yes," Kellin gasped, "I can't help it, I'm sorry."

"What else do you like?" Vic was all over Kellin, one knee between his legs, pulling Kellin's head right back so that his throat was exposed. He reached down to stroke Kellin's bulge. 

"I like it rough, painful. I like people watching me, and I like being told what to do, getting ordered around by strong, commanding people. People like you."

"Flatterer." 

Kellin shrugged. "I wouldn't mind spending my last moments with a beautiful man like yourself." 

Vic frowned, taking his hand away from Kellin's crotch and releasing his hair. He pulled his bandana down to reveal full lips and a jawline as perfect as Kellin could have hoped. "I told you it'd be a waste to give you water and let you die. We're gonna get you back to full strength and give you enough water to get you to safety, you don't have to give me sex in return." 

"But I want it, though." 

"Are you sure?" Vic walked to the table and looked through some of Kellin's photos. They were of his friends. 

"It doesn't matter. Mood's dead, you broke the illusion. You're not so tough anymore." 

"Aren't I?" Vic left the photos alone to pick up Kellin's knife. He came back to hold it against Kellin's throat. "Say 'disasterology.'"

"Disasterology."

"That's your safe word. Use it the moment you get uncomfortable." 

"Yes sir." 

Vic smiled. "'Sir?' I like that. Your pants look a little tight, Kellin Quinn. You want help with that?" 

"Yes sir." 

"Hold this."

Vic put the combat knife between Kellin's teeth and took off his bandana. He sat on Kellin's lap and brought the dark material to his eyes. Kellin had forgotten how much he loved sight deprivation during sex. When the bandana was secured tightly around his head, Vic took the knife back. Kellin felt his hot breath on his ear. 

"What's your safe word?"

"Disasterology."

"Do you need to use it?"

Kellin swallowed. "Hell no."

He felt Vic's hands at his belt, slowly, teasingly unbuckling it. Vic undid Kellin's fly, reaching in to take hold of his throbbing erection. 

Kellin sighed at the feel of Vic's hand around him, stroking him a little, pulling him free of his confining jeans. Vic suddenly stood, leaving Kellin's hard-on aching for touch, pressed firmly against his stomach by the waistband of his underwear. 

Kellin heard the door open. Vic was leaving. He waited a minute. Vic wouldn't just leave him like this, would he? He sighed in relief when he heard him come back in. 

Kellin felt the mouth of the canteen being pressed to his lips. Vic must've left to refill it for him. He eagerly drank until he was satisfied. 

"What's your safe word?"

"Disasterology."

"You need to use it?"

"What? No, why would I-" Kellin was silenced by a hard slap from Vic. 

"What happened to 'sir'?"

"Sorry sir." Kellin's voice shook, not out of fear, but exhilaration. 

Vic leaned in close to whisper, "Do you need to use your safe word?"

"No sir."

Vic must've put the canteen down. He pulled up Kellin's singlet, exposing his stomach. Kellin's breath shuddered at the feel of Vic's tongue, its tip drawing a stripe from his navel to his sternum. 

"You have nice skin, Kellin Quinn. Soft and delicious."

A bead of precum leaked from Kellin's tip, dripping down his shaft. 

"Look at you," Vic murmured, "All hard for your captor. I never put much stock into those Stockholm Syndrome stories before today." Vic wiped a thumb over the tip, smearing precum over it. "Yet here you are."

Vic pulled Kellin's singlet over his head, careful not to dislodge the blindfold, leaving it around his upper arms. He untied the rope that held Kellin to the chair, but left his wrists bound together behind it. Next were his legs. The rope had been tight and they filled with pins and needles when it came off at last. 

Vic gripped Kellin's neck and pulled him up to stand, but Kellin fell to his knees instead. 

"I'm sorry, sir. My legs are too numb, I can't stand."

Vic played with Kellin's hair. "That's fine, we can work with this. Open your mouth." Kellin obeyed, ready to taste him. "I guess you're thirsty for more than just water, huh?" 

He heard a zipper pulled down before feeling Vic's cock on his tongue. Kellin eagerly took him into his mouth, sucking, licking, bobbing his head up and down. He smiled when he heard Vic moan above him. Kellin gripped his thumb tight before taking in as much of Vic as he could, a technique he'd picked up a while ago from some friends with strange accents. He hadn't quite nailed deep throating yet, but he thought he did okay. 

Vic yanked him off by his hair. "You're really good at this, aren't you, Kellin Quinn?" He sounded a little breathless. 

"I've had practice, sir." 

"It's paying off. Can you stand yet?"

Kellin slowly got up from the ground, legs shaking a little. Vic roughly grabbed Kellin's arm, pulling him across the room to slam him down on the table. He pulled Kellin's singlet down to his wrists and leaned down to suck a hickey into the pale skin of his shoulder. Kellin could feel Vic's bare chest, hot and smooth against his back. He felt Vic yank his jeans down. A sharp slap across his ass made Kellin cry out.

"What's your safe word?" Vic growled. 

"Disa- disasterology," Kellin gasped. 

"Do you need to use it?"

"No sir." 

Vic slapped him again, then massaged the spot gently. "How much prep do you need?" 

"As little as possible, sir." 

"You sure?"

"Please, sir." 

Vic stood back a little, giving Kellin room to to kick his jeans off the rest of the way. The metal of the table was cool against Kellin's chest, but his body was quickly warming it up. He gasped when he felt Vic's finger enter him. It was coated in something cool and slippery. Oil, maybe? Vic massaged around before putting in a second finger, scissoring them. Kellin's eyes teared up slightly at the stretch. 

"Ready for another finger?"

"No," Kellin choked out. Vic's hand froze. "Your cock. Please." 

"Are you sure?"

Kellin nodded, rubbing sweat from the side of his face onto the table. "Make it rough, sir."

Vic pulled out his fingers, leaving Kellin feeling a little empty. He sighed when he felt Vic's tip against his hole. Vic took his time dipping in and out slightly. Kellin lifted his head to tell Vic to go harder, but instead cried out when Vic suddenly snapped his hips forward, burying himself in Kellin. 

The pain was intense, it'd been too long since he'd had sex like this, but more than anything Kellin was overwhelmed by how good it felt. He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. Vic leaned forward. 

"Do you need to use your safe word?" he whispered. 

"No sir," Kellin moaned, "Keep going. Fuck me. Please."

Vic straightened up and started thrusting, slowly at first. 

"Harder." Desperation soaked Kellin's voice. 

"Masochist," Vic replied. 

He picked up speed, Kellin gasping along with his movements. Kellin shouted when he hit his prostate, knees buckling at the shock that went through his body, tears flowing freely under the blindfold. Vic gripped Kellin's hips tightly and shoved him forward on the table. Now every time Vic pushed in, Kellin's cock rubbed slightly against the cold edge of the table. 

The extra friction coupled with Vic aiming for Kellin's prostate and hitting it with every thrust had him melting on the cold table. He could barely form a coherent thought. He could, however, hear Vic growl dirtily in his ear. 

"You're so tight, Kellin Quinn." He slapped Kellin's ass. "Mine's the first cock you've had in a while, isn't it?" 

Kellin couldn't reply, he just moaned in response. 

"I bet you'll be thinking about me next time you jerk off, huh? You'll even remember me when someone else fucks you, won't you?" 

Kellin exclaimed when Vic slapped his ass again. "Yes sir! I- you'll be all I can think about." Kellin moaned loudly. He was getting close. "Please touch me, sir."

Vic obliged, reaching around to grip Kellin's cock. Kellin writhed against the table. He could feel Vic's thrusting getting more erratic. 

"Sir, I- I'm so close- ah! I'm gonna-"

"Cum for me, Kellin Quinn." 

All Kellin needed was a few more tugs before he fell apart with a shout. Vic stroked his cock through his orgasm, waiting for it to go soft before releasing it. Kellin's whole body twitched, Vic mercifully aiming away from his prostate now. In a few hard thrusts, Vic came too. 

They breathed heavily together for a minute, Vic rubbing Kellin's back, bodies electrified and boneless. 

Vic slowly withdrew, sweat and come dripping to the floor. He undid the rope around Kellin's wrists, pulling the singlet from his arms, and turned him over to kiss him. Kellin wrapped his arms around Vic's neck. His tongue felt good on Kellin's. 

"I invited Jaime to watch, I hope you don't mind."

Kellin lifted the bandana from his eyes and looked over Vic's shoulder. One of the men from before was there, though his hood was down and his bandana was gone now. 

"You're into some hardcore shit, dude," he told Kellin. 

"Shit," Kellin laughed, "You should've asked him to take pictures."

"Maybe next time." Vic kissed at Kellin's jaw. 

"Hey, what was that stuff you used? It was slippery." 

"You mean the lube? Aloe gel, Mike makes it from his plants." Vic stopped nuzzling Kellin's neck to look down at him. "What do you normally use as lube?" 

Kellin shrugged. "Water?"

"Seriously?" Jaime had come over to put an arm around Vic's waist. He looked at Kellin in shock. "You use water?" 

"It's easier to get where I'm from. I like this stuff, though. Water's not slippery." 

"You're into crazy shit," he repeated. 

Kellin ran his hands over Vic's body. His skin was beautifully tanned, if marked by scars. He must get in a lot of knife fights. 

"C'mon. You can't stay on this table forever." Vic pulled Kellin up so he was sitting. 

"I'm so tired though," Kellin mumbled, resting his chin on Vic's shoulder. 

"Then put your pants back on so I can show you my bed. Could you clean up here, Hime-Time? You owe us for the show we put on for you."

Jaime groaned. "Fine."

Kellin pulled on his jeans and singlet and followed Vic from the room. His head had been in a bag when he was first dragged in, so it was nice to be able to see where Vic was taking him. 

It had been a long day. When they finally reached Vic's room, Kellin collapsed on the bed and knew nothing more.

**Author's Note:**

> The boys speak Spanish in interrogations to intimidate people into talking.  
> Vic likes making up fake words to use as safewords.


End file.
